Invisible (35 page)

He hesitates just a few seconds longer, then he slams his hand against the kitchen chair, shoving it into the table. The metal chair hits the edge of the old metal and Formica table and sends it skipping against the floor.

I jump at the clamor.

Then . . . he turns and walks out.

It's not the first time he's walked out on me. But it will be the last.

I have forgiven him and I will forgive him again. But I won't allow him to use me or mistreat me.

Or the Spirit within me.

I know who I am.

As the back door slams, I let out my breath and wipe the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand. Then I feel my mother's arms around me—hugging me—loving me.

“I'm so sorry,” she whispers. “And I'm so proud of you. So proud of your strength, and dignity, and self-respect.”

I lean into her. “I know who I am. You taught me.” I pull back from her and lift up my arm so she can see the words forever inked on my wrist.

“Yes, you reflect His image for all to see.” She pulls me close again. “Twila, I'm so proud of who you are—of who you've become. I love you so much.”

I quiet in her arms. The tears stop and peace engulfs me. As she continues to hug me, my stomach rumbles.

She leans back. “Was that your stomach growling?”

I giggle. “Yeah, I'm hungry. Like really hungry.”

She pats me on the back and wipes the tears from her own cheeks. “Well, that's good news. What would you like? Anything. Name it and I'll make it.”

My mouth begins to water at the thought of eating something delicious. But not just eating it . . .

Maybe even enjoying it.

There are no caresses tenderer than your charity, and no object of love is more healthy than your truth, beautiful and luminous beyond all things.

Saint Augustine

Chapter Forty-Seven

Miles

I haven't seen or
spoken to Ellyn since helping her with the dead rat last Sunday. I thought earlier today of calling to say hello, but just as I did on Sunday when she offered to make breakfast for me and invited me to stay for lunch with her staff, I know I need to set and maintain some boundaries with her for my own emotional well-being.

That doesn't mean I won't continue our friendship, just that I need to also care for myself in the process. I will be intentional in seeking God. I am willing to sacrifice myself, my heart, if that's how He leads—but I must know it's His leading.

Instead, I pick up the phone and call Nerissa and ask her if she'd like to meet for lunch. “I'll come your way. I have a light caseload today. How about Mendocino Café at noon?”

“Sounds lovely. Perfect timing too.”

“Why's that?”

“I have something I want to share with you.”

“Great. I'll see you soon, gal.” I hang up the phone and thank God again for Nerissa. I also resolve that it's time to find a golfing buddy—before spring if possible.

I arrive at the café a few minutes early and decide I'll get a table and have a cup of coffee while I wait. I'm shown to a corner table and sit with my back to the window so I can see Nerissa when she comes in. I look at the menu, though I already know what I'll order. Then I hear a familiar sound.

Laughter.

Ellyn's.

I look around until I see her. She sits with her back to me—across the table from her is Sabina. I watch their animated conversation for a moment, then get up from the table and walk toward them.

No reason not to say hello to two friends.

Ellyn

“Thanks for meeting me spur of the moment.” Sabina takes a sip of the water the waiter placed in front of her.

“Spur of the moment seems like our best plan. So what's up? I'm as curious as a cat. And you look like you swallowed the canary.”

Sabina's eyes shine and I see something new there—something I don't recognize.

“Who came up with that saying? Do you ever wonder who created some of the idioms we use?”

I don't take my eyes from her face. “No, I don't. Would you please tell me what's going on with you.”

She leans back. She seems so relaxed. “Okay. Well, first I want to apologize. You were right about something—”

“Whoa, hold on. Let me just savor this moment. You're apologizing
and
saying I was right about something? This is too good.” I let out an exaggerated sigh and then wait several seconds. “Okay, go ahead.”

Sabina raises one of her perfectly tweezed eyebrows. “You better savor the moment because this isn't likely to ever happen again. You know I'm rarely wrong.”

“Okay, c'mon. Give it to me. What was I right about?”

She's quiet for a moment. “You were right about the view.”

Her voice has dropped to almost a whisper and I lean forward to hear her. “The view? I was right about the view?”

“Yes.”

“That you avoid it?” This conversation is no longer a laughing matter.

“I did.”

“You did. But . . . you don't anymore?” Then it strikes me. What I see in her eyes, the expression on her face.

Peace.

For the first time since I met her, she is at peace.

“Sabina, what
happened
?”

Just as she opens her mouth to tell me, I feel a presence next to me. I look up—and my heart leaps.

Miles. He's standing right beside me.

And I'm almost knocked over by how happy I am to see him. “Miles! Hello.”

Miles

When Ellyn turns and looks at me she is unguarded. Her face radiates pleasure. Is she happy to see me? Or is it the conversation I've interrupted that's made her so happy? But the gasp she let out when she saw me and the way she said my name . . . I want to believe the reactions are to me. But the hand of caution seems to hold me back.
Take it slow, Miles
. “Looks like great minds think alike.”

Ellyn's smile is open and genuine. “Looks like it. Can you join us?”

“Please, join us, Doctor.” Sabina reaches over and pulls out a chair from their table.

“Thank you, but I don't want to interrupt your conversation. I'm meeting Nerissa.”

“Oh.”

Is that disappointment I hear in Ellyn's tone?

“Well, thank you again for your help on Sunday. I still can't believe I couldn't take care of it myself. And thank you for patching up the wall too. You went above and beyond, Miles.”

She puts her hand on my arm as she speaks.

“Anytime. You know I'm available if you need anything.”

“I'd love to repay you in some way.”

I hold up my hand. “Not necessary.” Ellyn takes her hand off my arm and glances at the floor, then looks back at Sabina. Did my refusal hurt her? Or am I imagining her disappointment? Wistful thinking? Confusion settles in.

Ellyn looks back up at me. “Well, thank you. I really did appreciate it.” But the happiness I read on her face earlier is gone now.

I put my hand on Ellyn's shoulder, but as natural as it seems for me to touch her, I feel her tense. “I just wanted to say hello, I'll let you get back to your lunch. Good to see you again, Dr. Jackson.” I smile at Sabina.

“Nice to see you too, Dr. Becker.”

Ellyn raises her eyebrows at our exchange, maybe sensing that Sabina and I know one another better than she realized. Who knows what she's thinking? I sure don't.

“Enjoy your lunch.” I walk back to my table, trying not to let my tangled emotions frustrate me.

Why
didn't I chose another restaurant?

As soon as I'm seated again, I see Nerissa come in. I wave and she sees me. Then she sees Ellyn. She stops at their table, and I watch as Ellyn introduces Nerissa to Sabina. They all chat for a few minutes, then Nerissa makes her way to where I'm sitting.

“Hello, my friend.”

I stand and greet her with a brief hug. “Sit here.” I motion to the chair where I was sitting. I'd rather have my back to Ellyn.

We settle in and Nerissa pushes the menu aside and then looks across the table at me. “How are you, Miles?” Her question is sincere, not a pleasantry.

I put my hands, palms down, on the table. “Well, I'm okay. I've been better and I've been worse. How about you?”

“I'm fine. You're okay here? With Ellyn?”

I lift my hands from the table and reach for the napkin next to my plate. “Sure. I can't say seeing her doesn't affect me, but I'm committed to remaining her friend. I went over and said hello when I saw them here.”

“She looks well. She hasn't had any problems since her hospitalization?”

“She does look well and no, I saw her briefly on Sunday and she's fine.”

The look of concern remains in Nerissa's eyes. She hesitates. “Well . . . good. I'm glad she's okay. But it's you I'm worried about.”

I wave off her concern as the waiter comes and takes our orders. I order the steak and Brie melt on a French roll—a favorite when I'm here for lunch. Nerissa orders her usual—the Healing Bowl, soba noodles in miso broth with kale, mushrooms, and tofu. I'm glad that, unlike the Green Giant—that ghastly green juice she claims to like—she's never asked me to try the Healing Bowl.

“You said you had something to tell me?”

Nerissa unwraps her flatware from the linen napkin and places the napkin on her lap. “Yes, it's about Twila.”

“Is she okay?”

Her eyes crease at the corners as she grins. “Yes. Better than okay. I asked her if I could tell you and she said to go ahead. You know her father was here—”

“Was? He's gone?”

“Yes!”

“Good.”

“He's gone because Twila told him to leave. She confronted him, and it was such a step of healing for her. Oh, Miles, it was so good for her.”

Nerissa fills me in on the details including Twila's renewed appetite.

“She's an amazing little gal.”

“She really is, Miles. I can't help but think God will use her in powerful ways.”

“No doubt.”

The waiter brings the iced herbal tea Nerissa ordered.

“Thank you for the time you've spent with her.”

“No need to thank me. I care for her. And I enjoy her. I was concerned when I saw her on Sunday. Good to know she's doing better. How about you?”

As Nerissa and I catch up, I start to relax. This is good. Conversation with a friend, but without any underlying currents and confusion. And I am so happy for Twila.

But as I listen to Nerissa talk, one thought nags at the back of my mind . . .

I'd rather have currents and confusion with Ellyn than a calm conversation with anyone else.

Indeed, Lord, to your eyes, the abyss of human consciousness is naked.

Saint Augustine

Chapter Forty-Eight

Ellyn

“That was nice of
Miles, to stop by and say hello.”

I look at Sabina, refusing to take the bait. “What was with all the
doctor
talk?”

“It has to do with what I'm going to tell you.”

“Well, get to it! So you're no longer avoiding the view . . .”

“Right. I went back to the cypress grove after our walk the other day. I felt drawn there—pulled there.” She shakes her head. “I felt like there was something I needed to see or figure out or . . . Anyway, I went back and while I was there, I realized you were right. I have avoided things. Everything.” She makes a sweeping gesture with one hand. “The view from the house, the headlands, the ocean, the trees . . . all of it. I couldn't . . . I couldn't take it in and ignore God at the same time. I couldn't deny His existence when everything around me spoke of Him.”

I swallow and tears prick my eyes. “Oh.”

“When you were in the ER, I was afraid”—she looks down at the table and then back up—“I was afraid I'd lose you too, and all the guilt I felt over Ashley's suicide and . . . my sister's death. It all came crashing in around me.”